The Detwiller Vibrator, patented in 1906 by someone who was, in my opinion, overly cavalier about putting loud and unpredictable gas-powered objects near one's own wang, contained instructions that included checking for gas leaks, yet another "deal breaker" for me that until this very second I hadn't even considered.

The Detwiller also came with a big gas tank (leakage! explosions! not the good kind!) as well as...whatever else that stuff is in the picture. All I can tell is that a judge's gavel and possibly a mini-megaphone seem to be involved.

Let's see, according to my medical book, circa 1895, you have a clear-cut case of Female Hysteria. (Men with similar symptoms will need to diagnose themselves with some other old-timey disease. May I suggest "dairy fever" or perhaps "dropsy"?)

In the 19th century, as many as 75% of middle-class women were estimated to suffer from hysteria, but luckily medical science was there to help them. Doctors treated hysteria with "pelvic massage" until the patient reached "hysterical paroxysm." In modern times, we know "pelvic massage" to be "the doctor jerking off his patient" and "hysterical paroxysm" to be "orgasm." The procedure as a whole is now known as "grounds for a lawsuit."

Doctors of the day were happy to provide such a treatment, as it provided a steady stream of paying customers (patients were advised to come in weekly for their treatments). It was all good, except for one thing, doctors found the actual manipulation of their patients genitals to be tedious and tiring. According to the highly entertaining Wikipedia entry on Female Hysteria: "The technique was difficult for a physician to master and could take hours to achieve 'hysterical paroxysm.'" (The physicians' widespread befuddlement at mastering these basic lady-pleasing skills puts Marrying a Doctor much lower on the To-Do list.)

The doctors were saved from the arduous task of trying to make these damn women come, already, by the magic device, the vibrator. The first of these "massage and vibratory apparatus" was patented by American physician (USA! USA!) George Taylor and was--and I can scarcely stand to type this--steam-powered. (The resulting billowing smoke making this perhaps the least discreet form of masturbatory tool.) Soon, physicians' offices were outfitted with electric vibrators, allowing doctors to get the job done in a matter of minutes instead of hours, and allowing most of mankind to stay blissfully ignorant about female orgasm until about the 1960s.

By the early 1900s, these miraculous health-giving electric vibrators started showing up in the American women's home. In fact, vibrators were one of the earliest electric home appliances invented, showing up ten years earlier than the vacuum cleaner or iron. Regular old, non-pervy companies like Hamilton Beach and Sears Roebuck were in the lucrative business of selling vibrators to housewives. The photo at left, for example, is from the 1918 Sears Roebuck and Co. catalog. "Very useful and satisfactory for home service," it says, vaguely, hoping you get the idea.

Vibes were openly marketed in catalogs and women's magazines. The ads weren't directly saying, "Put this on your wang" but they did refer to its "wonderfully refreshing" effect. Read one ad: "Can be used by yourself in the privacy of dressing room or boudoir, and furnish every woman with the essence of perpetual youth." The home vibe was a thrifty purchase, too. With doctors charging $2 to jack you off, the $5.95 portable home vibrator would pay for itself after only three uses.

According to this one dude, Mike, who collects antique vibrators, there were also air-powered and hand-cranked vibrators. Here's a photo from Mike's hand-cranked vibrator collection (a collection which I imagine causes some awkward moments on Mike's dates) of the Macaura's Pulsocon Hand Vibrator from the late 1800s. I don't understand the physics of the device, but Mike explains that there is "a plunging motion of the center disk." To me, it looks like a hand-mixer. And, I know it's supposed to be an erotic device, but I see this and think of the twisting motions of a hand mixer, the voluminous bushes of 1800s-era ladies, and well, I can venture a guess as to why we don't all have Macuara's Pulsocon Hand Vibrators stashed in our nightstand drawers.

If you, like Mike and--apparently, me--are fascinated by these old devices, by all means make haste and check out the online Antique Vibrator Museum they put up at Good Vibrations. There is an educational video, plus photos of all sorts of creepy-ass, early electrical vibes. Like, look at this 1902 Hamilton Beach model, the "Type A":

The Hamilton Beach, Type A, 1902

I mean, Good Lord! The giant motor! The thick cloth covering the cord! And is that an oil can in there? The Type A looks loud--roaringly loud, jackhammer loud. But most importantly, electricity back then was scary. I wouldn't even be brave enough to use a toaster from those days, much less put some shorting-out, spark-shooting, scary new-fangled doodad on my nether regions. I don't care how "wonderfully refreshing" it's supposed to be.

As all this new information (scary old vibes! hand cranks! hysterical paroxysm!) rattles around in my mind, I find that I keep going back to the 19th century doctor's office and this strangely sexless sex between doctor and patient. Were either of them aroused by what was going on? Did the females see the doctor breaking out his Hamilton Beach 4000 or whatever and feel a thrill of anticipation, or just the kind of dull disinterest one would experience while watching a mechanic change the car's oil. And I wonder about the women's orgasm. If they were not told it was pleasurable, did they experience it as pleasure, or as just a release, akin to finally getting to pee on a long car trip? And not to be all zen koanish or anything, but is non-erotic sex that is not recognized by either party as sex indeed sex?

THE CONTEST: Share Your Favorite PostTHE PRIZE: The Trojan Midnight Collection Torsion Vibrator from my history lovin' corporate overlords at Good Vibrations.THE VALUE: 89 bucks, sister.YOUR TASK: Share your favorite In Bed With Married Women post with someone ("share" = tell them, post on Facebook, RT something on Twitter, leave anonymous threatening note at doorstep, etc... "someone" = a human) YOUR TASK, PART 2: THEN you must fess up to your favorite IBWMW post either as a comment below or via email. I'll pick a winner Thursday, March 29, 2012.THE OBVIOUS LOOPHOLE: If you don't share your post and just say you do, how the fuck will I ever know? You're right, I won't. But try and be good now.

The product description if you're really still here. (But really after this, go outside and get some fresh air, would you?)Enjoy intimate sensation with a twist of orgasmic bliss with the Trojan Torsion multi-position Vibrator. Part of Trojan’s signature Midnight collection, this sophisticated vibe features a gentle, curving design coupled with a powerful variable motor with 5 speeds and 3 vibration patterns. The curving, ribbed upper shaft is girthier than many similarly-styled vibes, offering intense internal stimulation, while the twisting handle adjusts to four pleasuring positions. Made with medical-grade silicone, the Torsion vibrator is water-resistant and safe for use during your steamy shower play. An elegant storage pouch is included to keep your vibe safely tucked away between uses. Smooth, sleek and powerful, the Torsion vibe approaches erotic adventures from a whole new angle.

Thursday, March 15, 2012

It was given to us by a Misguided Googler®* searching for "fuckiest woman." "'Fuckiest' is instantly my new favorite superlative adjective," commented Suzanne.

Agreed! Though I'm not sure about usage. If someone says, "That was the fuckiest thing you ever did," is that, like, good? Bad?

"Absolutely," wrote Brad, sagely.

And that's what makes fuckiest so great. It doesn't actually mean anything, but, damn, you sure sound like you feel quite strongly about...whatever it is. Fuckiest takes its meaning from its context. Like a word version of tofu, but a really kick-ass tofu.

Here are the technical specs, if you're picky about what you stick up your wang.

Get ready to conjure up sensational sensuality with the Midnight Desire Pleasure Wand Vibrator. This bewitching blue beauty is a mini-sized wand style vibrator that packs a powerful pleasure punch. The flexible head bends in every direction to facilitate proper positioning while the powerful Japanese-made motor cycles this vibe through three levels of intensity and three vibration patterns. Similar to the popular Mystic Mini vibe, the Midnight Desire is battery-powered, splash proof and suited to shallow submersion in up to approximately 3 feet of water, making it a charming travel companion. A pretty pouch is included for storage at home or on the go. For an absolutely enchanting erotic experience, the Midnight Desire will have you spellbound.

*My other fave Misguided Googler® of yesterday: "You should fuck the robot." Which, I just decided, is going to be the chorus of the first death metal song I write. It'll be blah, blah, verse expressing sentiments of angst and whatnot... then I'll yell hoarsely, "You should FUCK THE ROBOT!"

Saturday, March 3, 2012

(You have arrived in the midst of a grand celebration in which we're re-running IBWMW's all-time greatest Real Sex Stories)

"Have you ever done stories about women who are NOT married, but were married and have been enjoying their sex life so much more immensely since no longer being married?" wrote Midge*.

No, but let's do it! Here, I'll get the old True Wife's Tales stuff out of the blog's attic. True Wife's Tales, if you're new around here, were the whole impetus for this blog. It was gonna be all earnest, Studs Terkel-like Real Women telling their Real Stories about their sex lives so that we could all get some fucking honesty happening. (Hence, also, the name of the blog.)

But then I learned about the existence of stuff like anal ring toss, and, well, my attention was diverted from these loftier goals.

Here's "Midge," 40ish, in the process of ending an 18 year marriage.

I got married when I was 24, and I was definitely not a virgin.

My first sexual experience was utterly awful. I was 16, I did it because the rest of my friends were doing it, and I had "heard" that doing it while on your period made it less painful. Well, that certainly wasn't the case, as there was blood EVERYWHERE, it hurt and I'm actually surprised that the guy I had sex with had sex again, there was so much.

When I met the person was to become my husband, and we had sex, I thought it was the most amazing thing I had had. I was 22 then. He definitely turned me on. His dick was VERY well sized, and fit so well inside me.

After a bit of a turmoil here and there (and at 22, 23, EVERYTHING is still turmoil), we got married when I was 24 and he was 22. We were married almost 18 years.

Because, having no other sexual partners and being only with him, I knew no different. And even with the partners I had before marrying him, I had never had an orgasm. There was one time later on in our marriage when I truly remember having an orgasm while we were having sex. I cried. I literally cried because I couldn't believe I had finally had one and how good it felt.

The time I was with him, I will have to say that I can recall a few times where the sex WAS really good. At least really good for the time when I knew no different. There was one time we stayed at a lodge after a Christmas party and I was so turned on I kept climbing on top of him all night long. I couldn't get enough. And there was a time in Vegas, when it was the same. While the sex wasn't bad, it was only what I can describe was nondescript. It was there. It was what you did. The basic motions. Missionary. Me on top, a "spooning" type, one time. Positions, that although they were a little different, did not change the way he felt inside me.

Now, just writing that, I realized that the best times were when we were NOT at home. Having kids definitely changed a lot, mostly for me, and I will take that blame. Taking care of kids all day, working part time, taking care of the house, it put a strain on our sex life. I didn't have the desire most of the time.

Also, my ex traveled for work and would be gone for months at a time. Back then, I guess, also, you would say I was a prude, because I was the of the mindset, "It's either the real thing, or nothing", meaning no toys. Boy was I WRONG! Back then I literally put sex out of my mindset because I knew I wasn't getting it, so no reason to think about it.

We had sex for the last time, six months before I asked him to move out. Now, if you ask him, he will say that the lack of sex was a determining factor in the demise of our marriage. Maybe he's right in a way. I had no desire to have sex with him anymore. Not because my desires had decreased but because of other factors of lack of trust, deceit, etc.

But it was during these last six months, however, that I did start to find my sexual libido. I had always read "soft porn" "romance" novels, and I found that when reading those, my pussy got warm and wet. And so one of those times, when I was home alone, I went into the dresser drawer and grabbed an electric massager that we had (he used it on me a couple of times, but I felt silly at the time and could not relax enough to enjoy it). It had a little nub on it as well. I decided to experiment. I plugged it in and put it between my legs, right on my clit. The orgasm was so amazing and I came so hard. From that moment on I was hooked. There was no turning back. I may have not been having sex with my husband anymore, but I found something else that gave me extreme pleasure.

About Me

I write In Bed With Married Women, a blog about sex in all its boring, strange, funny, smokin' hot glory. My work has also appeared in Salon, AlterNet, Cosmopolitan, Rolling Stone, Entertainment Weekly, Jezebel, Mad, Games and the Los Angeles Times. I look grumpy in all pictures whether grumpy or just kinda neutral.